


The hunter's meeting

by blackcrystaly



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cannibalism, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Jealous Sherlock, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive!Sherlock, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcrystaly/pseuds/blackcrystaly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal decided it was time to pay a visit to his old friend John Watson. </p><p>Working summary</p>
            </blockquote>





	The hunter's meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This story was created on just a couple of hours, you can say it's another experiment... a little something I have been trying to put into written words for quite a while... It needs a lot of work, so it's not what you might call one of my best but I find myself strangely happy with it and wanting to share it. Please take this few, warning words into account. I'll come back to edit and make some changes in it... but for now... this is my Halloween story of this year.  
> English isn't my first language so I beg you to be nice while pointing at any mistake you are bound to find.  
> This story isn't betaed yet but I hope it'll be.

Hannibal knocked on 221b at half past eight. He had arrived some hours earlier on London -and after resting for a little while at the expensive hotel he had booked weeks ago- decided it was time to visit his old friend, John Watson. The other man had invited him over a couple of times, but Lecter could always tell there was something that made the other blond fidget at the idea of him actually taking John on his offer. At first Lecter assumed it was because the former army doctor was near broke -military pension notwithstanding- and still unstable, having to adapt to civilian life. But then he had found the blog and realized that what made John nervous had nothing to do with his circumstances, or at least not exactly… he was worried about Hannibal meeting his partner Sherlock Holmes, a most rude man. The fact that John had tried to protect him spoke louder than any words he might have told Hannibal about his feelings for the younger man so with a knowing smile he had prepared for the trip knowing there would be some unpleasantness he would have to deal with… and wait.

John opened the door and pulled the dear visitor into a big hug.

“I’m so glad you came!” The man said happily. Even if he had been worried sick for a couple of days, deep down he trusted the other to understand how much the Consulting Detective meant to him and not make a prey of him even if he was a brat most of the time. But if bad came to worse… well, he was ready to ensure his partner's safety.

“I’m glad to see you too, dear friend, after so long!” Hannibal greeted.

They broke the contact some moments later, and then Lecter was invited upstairs.

The first thing the taller man noticed was a brunette sitting straight and completely focused on him.

“Sherlock, this is an old colleague and friend of mine: Hannibal Lecter” He introduced the man to the other who didn’t make the least gesture to greet him. Instead his gaze deepened the scrutiny on the newcomer.

Hannibal smiled and let the other study him to his heart content while Watson send some discreetly worried looks to him.

“So, that’s why you have been on edge these last few weeks, John…” The Consulting Detective said at least, finally standing up and getting closer to them tending his hand to the newcomer “Sherlock Holmes” He said at least with a strange, dark gleam on his grey eyes.

“Hannibal Lecter” He said stretching the offered hand. _This was a dangerous and possessive man_ , his mind provided. He could read all the signs of a predator in him, a hunter much like himself, albeit of a different kind. Also the man seemed to be truly smitten with his old friend and he perceived his relationship with the former soldier as a treat to his own relationship with the other blond. _He would have to move carefully around this Consulting Detective_.

 

Watson observed both men nervously. He wondered what had meant Sherlock by his earlier comment. Of course, he knew that there was no way his partner wouldn’t notice how uncomfortable he had been during the days between Hannibal’s call telling him he would be paying him a visit and his actual arrival. But, what had the other seen as the cause for his discomfort? It was pretty unusual for Sherlock to keep his deductions to himself, particularly when he showed his interest in knowing the process behind them and was always ready to praise him. This time however, he was pretty adamant to voice a question. What if the man had actually been able to grasp their secret? What would become of them? Would he turn them, either to Lestrade or Mycroft Holmes, or keep their secret as he had done sometimes in the past? Still, at those times there had been some redeemable quality on the guilty man or woman, or a previous crime committed against them or a loved one…

“Would you like some tea?” John asked at least trying to be a good host.

“I’d love to, John” Hannibal answered at once “Would you like some help?” He offered, knowing it would give them the perfect chance to speak alone for a little while.

“Actually, I can manage on my own, but I’d love if you keep me company” He said at least “Do you want some tea, Sherlock?” He asked before guiding the other blond to the kitchen.

“Yes” He said quietly, almost icy, moving back to the sofa.

John realized how upset his lover had become and walked back to give him a kiss on the lips. This simply gesture was at the same time a reassurance and a plea not to read more than there were in his earlier words.

 

“I’m sorry about the state of this place” John began to say, noticing Hannibal’s almost shocked expression when he saw the kitchen of 221B, particularly the table which was presently full of chemistry apparels, glass retorts and test tubes “We have been talking about making my old bedroom into Sherlock’s lab, so we don’t keep risking crossed contamination or poisoning, but we haven’t got around it just yet” he explained calmly while putting the teapot on the fire.

Suddenly Hannibal noticed a couple of mismatched eyes inside a glass container and a couple of left fingers inside another and became worried for a moment before smiling to himself… he had remembered John’s blog entry about Sherlock’s experiment with corpses and its parts.

“Have you ever thought about providing for him?” He asked in a low, calm voice, letting the other notice what he was looking at.

John followed his gaze and smiled.

“Yes” He replied in the same tone. Of course he couldn’t risk saying anything else, not when he suspected his house was still wired. Sherlock’s big brother was terribly protective of the younger brunette and they all knew that if the Consulting Detective had been able to cheat death there was no reason why Moriarty couldn’t have done the same.

He turned around to take the cups and saucers when he felt the other’s presence at his back. Hannibal was one of the only people he allowed to get so close, one of the few that didn’t turn on his inner alarms.

“Should we bring him a little souvenir?” The psychiatrist whispered on his ear. They had a tradition from their university days, once a year, on Halloween they would go out and hunt down someone from either of their lists –they had very different ways and reasons to pick a prey- and make them into a homage to Jack the Ripper. They didn’t exactly copy those murders; they had done that many, many years ago and eventually moved from that to a different approach. After they had agreed on the prey, hunted them and taken the meat they wanted, it would be time to take a souvenir to send to the police, copying one of Jack’s letters. To that day, their killings hadn’t made the headlines, they suspected it was because the police didn’t want to offer them any publicity –as if they needed or wanted it- and because didn’t have the least clue about their identities, not to mention that they only hunted as a couple once a year. And they hadn’t been able to do so the last few years since Watson’s deployment in Afghanistan. So, he suspected Scotland Yard officers had convinced themselves “the” killer was either dormant or dead.

Before John had the chance to answer Sherlock announced his presence with a clear, dark voice.

“I suggest, doctor Lecter, you take a couple of steps back”

Both men turned their heads, and noticed the Consulting Detective standing at the kitchen’s door with the riding crop on his hand, looking menacingly at their guest.

 

John had to confess to himself he had never desired Sherlock more than at that second. The image he made called to his submissive side as much as sparked his adrenaline addiction. The brunette was showing his most dangerous and dominant personality. If he had put his mind to it, he might have even surpassed Irene Addler on her trade, Watson decided.

 

Hannibal smiled, obeyed and put his hands up in a surrender gesture.

“There is no need for that, mister Holmes,” he purposely avoid to clarify if he was referring to the implicit threat of physical violence or the jealousy display “I’m not trying to take John away from you” He said conversationally.

Sherlock studied the two men once more, before moving forwards.

“I know that” He said in an ice cold tone “If I had even suspected such a thing you wouldn’t be here at all”

John realized the water was boiling behind him, but felt unable to attend it. He was completely taken by this unknown side of his lover. He had seen Sherlock acting before, of course he had, and had slowly become better at identifying when he was pretending, but this time he was pretty sure the other wasn’t faking. This was the younger brother of Mycroft Holmes. The one the "minor" civil servant had ever hinted that existed under the unruly appearance of the Consulting Detective.

With confident movements, his eyes still fixed on their visitor, the brunette moved John aside to put the fire out. That prompted John to move. In a couple of seconds he had everything ready.

“We should head back to the living room” He suggested at least.

He should have known that it wasn’t a good idea to let Hannibal and Sherlock under the same roof. And yet, he had been more worried about his lover finding about the secret he shared with the other doctor than of him getting jealous over the man’s show of affection. Still, he should have known better. Both were just too similar in many ways to get along nicely.

All three of them moved at once, Watson let the cups on the little table and tried to come up with a safe topic. Later, much later, while they were stalking the prey there would be time for them to continue their unfinished talk.

Suddenly, Sherlock’s mobile rang. He could tell it was a message from Lestrade, since he was sitting at the other’s side -a little gesture to appease the brunette-, while Hannibal was in front of them. John half expected to see the Consulting Detective sprang into action and leave them alone, but he simply groaned and typed a quick reply to the Detective Inspector.

John knew better than to question the other at such volatile time. Suddenly Watson decided that maybe there was some topic that could interest both men.

“So, how does it feel working with the FBI?” He asked to Hannibal.

Sherlock turned an interested eye to the blond psychiatrist and John congratulated himself.

Lecter smiled confidently.

“It’s quite interesting. But, I’m afraid I’m only an external source, a consultant so to speak. They only come to me when in doubt or want a second opinion on a criminal profile.”

“You must be the one who corrected their more than pitiful attempt at profiling the Chain’s killer, then.” Sherlock said suddenly interested, his aggressive stance relaxing a bit.

The other blond nodded meanwhile John looked at them confused.

“It was some seven years ago, a sadistic killer who liked to torture his victims using red-hot chains” Sherlock explained to his partner “They brought up the classical profile, male, between twenty five and thirty five, Caucasian, with a history of abuse and or abandonment” he recited boringly “but then some weeks later they apprehended a woman in the forties… no sob story behind her actions. Some papers mentioned the FBI had called an external source to provide a different profile and gone with it.”

“I heard they called you but refused to travel to the States”

Sherlock laughed hard and bitterly.

“ _I didn’t refuse anything!_ ” He exclaimed “Some people in the States knew about my seven per cent solution and made quite clear I wouldn’t be welcomed…”

John looked at his lover surprised.

“Mycroft was otherwise engaged at the time…” Was all he said looking back at Watson “Later someone sent me a special visa and the assurance I’d never be bothered if I decided to travel to the other side of the ocean” This last part he said letting his gaze go from John to Hannibal.

The blond smiled and nodded.

“Sherlock!” The former soldier protested at least, the other’s display was making him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay John” Hannibal said calmly “I’m glad you found someone who loves you as much as mister Holmes does, even if you are worried about him making quite the negative impression.”

At that moment they heard a respectful cough at the door and all three of them turned they gazes to discover Mycroft Holmes, standing uptight, his weight seeming to be resting on the umbrella’s handle.

“I see I have arrived just in time for tea” He said with a soft, gentle smile on his face.

Watson nodded before greeting him and moving to the kitchen to prepare a cup for the British Government. He was a bit grateful for the interruption also he was pretty sure the other man would be more than able to calm down both his friend and his lover.

 

 

Mycroft studied the well known psychiatrist for a moment before walking to the man and his brother. He had suspected that Sherlock wouldn’t take kindly to another man calling on Watson, particularly one he knew from his past. Moreover when he still had suspicions about the true nature of John and Percy Phelps’ relationship. Still, the older Holmes didn’t quite expect the other reacted so hard, or that he became so blind not to notice the older man in front of him didn’t have any intention to seduce John away. They had been lovers long time ago. But all that remained from those days was the sincere affection between them and some secrets he was sure none of them would like to see made public.

“I think you should observe, my dear boy” He said at least with a mysterious smile, sitting down in front of his brother, close to the other man. Mycroft noticed that somehow his gestures seemed to have made the blond imperceptibly nervous. Clearly, the newcomer had good instincts and they were telling him he was the most dangerous man in that room right there and then.

Sherlock turned his gaze to his brother for just a second before studying the other doctor once again, this time, with Watson still in the kitchen he focused on the little details he might, just might, overlooked the first time. This was, he supposed, why his sibling always admonished him that caring was not an advantage.

Eventually, he had to admit there was nothing in the older psychiatrist that showed the kind of interest that Phelps and his soon-to-be brother-in-law slash almost attacker Joseph Harrison had had on his lover. Still, they shared something that John didn’t dare to confide in him, something that had brought them closer, that meant a lot for both and that came from their days as students. Still he couldn’t quite deduce what could it be just yet, there were too many possibilities and too little data. It was a capital mistake to theorize without facts.

 

 

By the time John returned, Sherlock seemed calmer and more centered. He was quietly discussing Scotland Yard vs the FBI investigative methods. The doctor decided he owned Mycroft a huge present after his so timely intervention. He gave the man the cup of tea and offered all of them some cookies he had hidden a couple of days before. Slowly the talk went to criminal profiling where all of them had some experience.

After some hours the air around them seemed to have cleared enough for the civil servant to finally stand up, announcing he should be on his way.

“Why don’t you stay and have dinner with us, Mycroft?” Sherlock invited with a strange smile on his face. He had noticed the psychiatrist growing more and more fascinated with his brother and decided to take advantage of that. Moreover, he had also noticed the subtle way in which Mycroft had showed his own interest in return.

The older Holmes looked at his sibling surprised, as did John. Even if the former soldier knew that the rivalry between the brothers was just a screen and a game they play to fool some people it still made him wonder why would his lover extend such an invitation out of the blue.

The red headed man, seemed to consider it for a moment, before phishing his phone from his pocket and telling someone to cancel his appointment for that night.

 

John was wondering what should he prepare for dinner, or if he should call Angelo’s for some delivery –he would certainly do it for Sherlock- when his lover announced that since their kitchen was hardly in the state to be used for any healthy eating they should go to one of his and Mycroft favorite restaurants. It would be of course, his treat.

The former soldier studied the other for a little while; he wondered just what had happened while he was away for Sherlock to show his most pleasant and peaceful side. Still, he was actually too glad for the change of attitude to question it. There would be time later, much later.

 

Hannibal announced then he should leave to change his attire. Immediately, Mycroft offered him a lift to his hotel since he knew the man was on foot. The blond accepted delighted at the perspective of spending more time with the older Holmes. It had been years since he had met such an interesting person. The taller one was respectful, calm, collected and charming. Lecter could sense the other was a man not only of power but character; a great ally and a terrible enemy to have. If the hunt allowed for it, he would love to have the chance to know him better, in a less hostile location… just the two of them. He wondered how he would react to a first taste of human meat, if he would be able to tell what he was being gifted with, if he would appreciate the gesture… A few moments later both men departed.

Once Mycroft and Hannibal were out of 221b Sherlock jumped to the window and observed them until the men disappeared on the black, unmarked car of the British Government. Just then he let a satisfied smile appear on his lips and just then Watson realized _that_ was what his lover had been aiming at… but why? What had the brunette seen on his old friend… or the civil servant?

Still, there were more urgent matters now they were alone. He turned to the other man ready to tackle the issue.

“Sherlock…” He began with his most serious tone. He had to tell of his displeasure to his partner. Hannibal was here to stay for some time, and he wanted to make sure the events of that day wouldn’t repeat again and again.

“Save it, John” The brunette said with final tone, walking to him like a predator on the prowl, making Watson move backwards on instinct “we have only a couple of hours before dinner… and don’t think I have forgotten your reaction to me holding the ridding crop.”

Watson swallowed hard. _This was not good; this was a lot not good_. He should be chastising Sherlock for his uncivilized behavior, he should be planning the hunt, thinking how would Hannibal and him managed to keep everything a secret from both Holmes brothers. He certainly shouldn’t be getting excited at seeing his lover’s domineering stance and the idea of his lover using the ridding crop on him.

Still, there he was, against the wall, with the brunette towering over him, his eyes fixed on the darkened orbs that always betrayed the taller man’s desire. Suddenly, Sherlock’s arms were at each side of the blond’s head. He remained quiet, looking at the smaller man intensely, letting his grey eyes caress the other’s still firm body. Watson was beginning to tremble almost imperceptibly. Just then, the brunette finally moved to kiss him. It was a possessive, almost punishing kiss. Tonight, he would mark his lover inside and out making sure he remembered exactly who he belonged to.

 

Between kisses, the younger Holmes guided his lover to their bedroom. By the time the good doctor fell on the mattress he was already half naked and before he realized it his hands were tied up to the headboard.

“Sherlock…” John whispered, unsure if he would be able to deal with being restrained. One thing was to fantasize of it… the reality of finding himself defenseless was another.

“Hush, John…” The man said calmly “trust me… I won’t ever let anything hurt you in a bad way” He promised darkly.

The blond nodded, still nervous. The whole of his body was tensing up, his mind coming up with some different ways to free himself of the restraints.

 

 

The younger one shook his head, it was obviously too much too soon… even if his lover was making a big effort to accept he was given what he had been wanting for a long time. With a fluid and quick movement of his hands Sherlock released the blond. John looked aside, a bit ashamed of himself.

“I promise you, there will be the day you’ll come to enjoy being tied up to our bed…” The brunette whispered into the other’s ear before biting the lobe sensuously.

Obviously, tonight wouldn’t be the one he would make Watson come while under his riding crop. They hadn’t the time it would take for the man to enjoy his ministrations.

Slowly, he began to move down the other’s neck column, kissing and biting other’s skin. He made sure to leave some visible ownership marks on him.

Sherlock took his time to play with the blond’s nipples, teasing them with his fingers and mouth while the blond let one of his hands rest on the other’s head. A litany of “Sherlock” and “please” kept falling from his lips.

The other man smiled to himself before moving down, his hands and lips stimulating the smaller man’s skin, exploiting every hot spot. He took John’s cock on his mouth, but used his hand to keep his orgasm away.

Soon enough Watson was begging to be allowed to come, but Sherlock had other plans tonight. He stopped his ministrations and moved upwards.

“Tonight, John, you’ll only come when I’m deep inside you” He whispered.

The other man swallowed hard.

Sherlock took the tube of lube and ordered John to coat his fingers with it.

Once he obeyed, the brunette moved to the other’s well concealed entrance. He used his fingers to breach in slowly, making sure to stimulate the other’s pleasure spot. The older man parted his legs even further, silently begging for the brunette to just take him.

“I want to hear you beg for it, my dear” The younger Holmes whispered.

John’s eyes shone before licking his lips.

“Please, Sherlock…” John began to say “I need you… right now… take me…”

“You can do it even better…” The other one whispered while letting his hard shaft tease his lover’s entrance.

“Make me yours, mark me inside!” He said passionately.

The brunette smiled, and kissed his lover before taking the other. His thrusts were slow and deep, making John protest and try to make him go faster.

“None of that now, my dear” He whispered making the other shudder excited.

Some minutes, they coupling began more frantic, and Sherlock finally freed the other’s erection...

“Come for me, John” The brunette ordered.

The older man’s orgasm triggered the brunette’s and soon they were breathing hard and completely satisfied.

 

 

It was some time later that both men left the bed for the bathroom. They showered and changed into some clothes fitting for the place Sherlock had chosen.

The Consulting Detective called for a cab while the doctor finished dressing and half an hour later they were in route to the little restaurant. On their arrival they found Mycroft Holmes and Hannibal Lecter already waiting for them, both man completely engrossed on some philosophical debate about the darkest sides of human nature.

Sherlock noticed how his brother’s eyes shone while hearing the other man, how he seemed to be almost covering him from other people’s gazes, and realized Doctor Lecter wouldn’t be allowed to leave England for quite a while… if ever.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is well loved and appreciated. Please, take into account that there is a person with feelings at the other side of the screen, so please be kind while pointing at that which might not have been to your liking.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Neither Sherlock characters not Hannibal belong to me, this story however does.


End file.
